


The Old Night

by Tulak_Hord



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: Knights of the Old Republic (Video Games), Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Clueless Jedi on both Sides, Gen, How and why did this happen, Obi-Wan and Anakin in the Old Republic, Pre-Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic, the mandalorian wars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-08
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:28:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27456487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tulak_Hord/pseuds/Tulak_Hord
Summary: It began as a routine, monotonous walk to the Council Chamber. Perhaps Obi-Wan should not have reflected too much on the monotony as his life is now far more... interesting... than he'd ever wanted it to be. Of course, it is in the middle of a particularly bloody war led by the would be Sith Lords Revan and Malak- all thanks to a mishap of the Force....Curse the Force.ORHow I learned to start worrying and hate the past
Relationships: Alek | Darth Malak & Revan, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 5
Kudos: 80





	The Old Night

**The Old Night**

It was yet another long walk to the Council’s Chamber- yet another of those walks that never seemed to get over as they traipsed through the halls; the Negotiator and the Hero with No Fear.

“I still can’t believe we let Dooku get away. _Again.”_ said Anakin, shaking his head.

It was a subtle thing, but Obi-Wan noticed how Anakin never truly smiled these days. There were jokes, there was banter, but his none of his padawan’s smiles ever truly reached his eyes.

It was an odd thing, this new distance- and as a Jedi Master, he knew he ought to feel overjoyed. And yet there was always his _damned_ attachment to the boy, whether or not he would admit it.

The few times he had earnestly seen Anakin happy were when he was with Padmé ( _Force,_ how _obvious_ could those two be) and with his… _friend,_ Chancellor Palpatine.

 _Agh._ Perhaps it was his instinctive distrust of politicians, but _one more_ “Excuse me, Master Kenobi, but I hope you wouldn’t mind if I borrowed young Anakin for a moment…” and he would rather not be held responsible for his actions. War trauma, of course, nearly always made a plausible excuse.

“Perhaps you should give him lessons, Padawan. After all, you’re the master at getting caught.” he joked, to his immediate regret.

“Very funny.” said Anakin, in that same stern tone. Obi-Wan sighed. Just _what,_ again, had possessed him to make that joke- and now, too, when Anakin was stewing over his failure?

He could sometimes not help himself, that was true- but why did Anakin have to hold such a grudge against him for a simple jest? _No, no, don’t blame Anakin. This is entirely your fault, as is everything._

It was with a pang that he realised that the only reason he had allowed the Chancellor’s friendship with Anakin to blossom was that his padawan- _no, former padawan-_ seemed to earnestly like spending time with the man.

_Not that Anakin needed to know that._

“Come now, Anakin. Do let the lava cool, if you won’t very much mind- or I fear the Council will.” he said, stubbornly avoiding the issue. Anakin merely sighed again and fell back to step behind him- after all, he was _Knight Skywalker_ while Obi-Wan was _High Councillor Kenobi._

In one breath, Obi-Wan would bless the division, the distance, for it would hopefully detach Anakin from himself and shape him into a great Jedi- as well as the Council offering a seat of power from where he could look after him and protect him properly.

In another breath, he’d curse the appointment. Ever since High General Kenobi had come into existence, Anakin treated him as if he were a different person- no, a different _alien._

There was greater respect, certainly- but none of that trust. None of that loving little brother’s trust Obi-Wan had enjoyed when Anakin was still his padawan. Anakin was and always would be his little brother, and the Force had told him so- but he could not shake the feeling that if Anakin were to be asked the same question, his answer would be different.

“What do you think Windu’s stewing over today, Master?” Anakin asked, as if in passing. “Somebody finally get that big stick stuck in his-“

 _“Anakin.” -_ said Obi-Wan longsufferingly - “First of all, it’s _Master_ Windu. Secondly, perhaps you should consider the distinct possibility that the entirety of the Council is not, in fact, deaf, and the other fact that we are nearly standing outside their door.”

“Well, they certainly do act like it!” said Anakin harshly.

“ _Anakin,_ you will at once…”

“Er, with all due respect, Master, I think he’s right.” said a voice unlooked-for, and Obi-Wan had the pleasure of witnessing Anakin’s face light up in triumph at first and immediately narrow in suspicion as he turned around.

Obi-Wan followed his gaze to a bald-headed young Jedi Knight who leant in the wall in the most lackadaisical manner possible, in a way no Jedi in the damned Galaxy ever did- save Anakin himself, of course.

“Might I remind you, my dear fellow, that it is rude to eavesdrop?” he said sternly. He was a High Councillor of the Order, and he would not have any Jedi act in an uncivilised manner- save Anakin, of course.

“Alright, alright, I meant no offense!” the Knight said, raising his hands in a placating gesture. “It’s just that in these days of war, it rather pains me to see such apathy in Jedi Masters, of all people- ah, forgive me, Master.” he said.

Obi-Wan turned to Anakin, who turned back to him. They understood each other perfectly. It was clear Anakin agreed with this new Knight as much as Obi-Wan disagreed with him.

“Have we met?” Anakin asked, in the bluntest way, as usual.

“Ah, forgive me. Typical of me to get caught up these days- Alek Squinquargesimus, Jedi Knight, At your service. Anakin, er…”

“Skywalker.” he finished, and they shook hands.

_Anakin almost never shook hands. With anybody._

And he didn’t even ask how it was possible that the Knight hadn’t heard of him, the _Hero with no Fear!_

“Don’t mind my grumpy old master. You’ve heard of him, I’m sure.” said Anakin, and… _Alek Squinquargesimus, what a name…_ raised an eyebrow.

“Pardon me, but I haven’t, actually.” he said, and Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow.

“I am Obi-Wan Kenobi, Jedi Councillor.” he said.

“Charmed.” said Squinquargesimus, shaking him by the hand and offering an easy smile. “Of Eedit, Alderaan or Dantooine, if I may ask?”

Now what kind of question was that?

“I… I was born in Stewjon, if that is what you mean.”

“Stewjon? Ah, sorry, master. Revan’s always telling me to frame my questions more clearly. I wished to enquire as to where you hold a seat.”

“Where I… there are only… there is only one Council as far as I’m aware, and it’s here on Coruscant!” he said, incredulous. There was clearly something wrong with this Knight- and had he said _Revan?_

_Revan, the ancient Grey Lord who both saved and nearly conquered the Old Republic?_

Why, the tale of Revan had been one of Obi-Wan’s favourites while he was a youngling in the crèche, and he- he spoke of it as if Revan existed in these times! As if _Revan,_ of all people, was a friend!”

The Knight seemed as confused as him. Anakin, on the other hand, looked bemused.

“Have you been away, lately? To the outer rim, perhaps?” he pressed. Squinquargesimus nodded.

“Why, yes. Myself and Revan were rather occupied in the Arkanis sector.”

“Well, do you have any memory of a heavy object hitting…”

 _“Anakin!”_ Obi-Wan sent down the remnants of their training bond. Too hesitant and _damnably attached_ to sever it as it should have been, he had let it remain, and it had been dormant for a few years. The sheer shock of having it jolted awake shut Anakin’s mouth just as well.

Obi-Wan was forced to exercise his powers of iron restraint, and as a result his palm did not in fact hit his face.

Right now, they had a Council to meet. Master Windu was likely worried, and Obi-Wan knew for a fact that the Vaapad Master tried to hide such worry behind a veneer of sternness. And whoever Alek Squinquargesimus was, he could not keep them.

 _And I’ll have the opportunity to subtly recommend mind-healing sessions for our likely concussed friend,_ he reminded himself.

“Well, it has been a pleasure, Knight Squinquargesimus, but I would not like to keep the Council waiting. Perhaps I could have you over for tea and iron out the details later?” he asked, moving to open the door.

The Knight looked rather flustered.

“Um, with your pardon, Master Kenobi, you might not want to do that.” he said, moving a sif to hold the door against Obi-Wan. Anakin looked between the two of them.

“You clearly haven’t tried keeping him from his beloved Council Chamber before.” he snorted, and Alek seemed to turn rather surly.

In natural circumstances Obi-Wan would radiate fond amusement, but this Jedi Knight was clearly not going to budge. He decided to play along with Anakin’s statement.

“You heard him. Please, step aside. I am not used to being disbarred from my Council seat.”

Alek sighed.

“Well, I really minced my words, didn’t I? The truth, Master Kenobi, is that there is likely a raging argument between Revan- that’s my, ah, friend- and the entirety of the Jedi Council within. If you’d like to join that particular chaos, who am I to stop you? Don’t say I didn’t warn you, however.”

 _‘Such irreverence- that rascal!’_ thought Obi-Wan- but how he talked to his superior aside, the further issue was that Alek was _delusional._

Revan? He who was both Jedi and Sith from four thousand years ago?! Obi-Wan drew from his sea of calm, from the reserves of infinite patience he possessed.

“Knight Squinquargesimus, I _strongly_ suggest that you step aside. I would also recommend a mind-healing session, as _Darth Revan_ has not been alive for thousands of years! He was from the time of the Old Republic, as you were perhaps once aware. This year is 991 AR- that is After the Ruusan Reformation.”

 _“Darth_ Revan? I- _Darth?”_ he asked. “Are you _quite sure?”_

“I have read my history, unlike some.” Obi-Wan said with a strong force suggestion. Alek merely shook his head.

“Uh, perhaps you have visions, Master. No doubt Revan will be glad to discuss them with you- but what was the Ruusan Reformation? I’ve never heard of anything of the kind.”

“Then it’s quite clear that you believe you live in the time of the Old Republic. I very firmly recommend that you set up a session with Master Vokara Che in the Halls of Healing. She will help disabuse you of these notions. Now, if you’ll excuse me, my good man…”

Obi-Wan threw open the door.

A dozen incredulous faces stared at him- as did a mask.

 _Well,_ he thought, _“I’ve never seen Master Yoda wear a blue robe before”_. The being was clearly Master Yoda, that was true- but he seemed somehow… _younger?_

Perhaps his eyesight was playing tricks on him. He scanned the room for Master Windu- but he could not be seen.

_No._

In fact, every member of this council was entirely unfamiliar to him- Master 'Yoda' was in fact probably Vandar Tokare, an ancient Master of the same species. That was enough to return his attention to the masked figure standing at the centre, and to his mask in particular. 

Fierce, iconic and of Mandalorian make- most importantly, it was instantly recognisable.

 _“Oh, dear Coruscant, no.”_ he whispered.

“Master? Master!” came the distant, faraway voice. It might have been Anakin, it might not- but Anakin was not in this plummeting world, where everything had fallen away and been replaced by horrific swirls of white.

 _“Oh, sweet Force, no.”_ said Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi, and fainted.

“Not for an hour could you leave me alone without yet another disaster- what is it _now,_ Alek? _”_ asked Jedi Knight Revan.

Alek looked pleadingly to Anakin, whose only thought was that the current situation involved a very large amount of Huttslime and Bantha Poodoo.


End file.
